Village Squire, 1980-02, Page 15larger fields. For some reason Swanson had cut his hay and left it
in funny, uneven mounds to dry. My father always said the man
didn't know the first thing about farming.
By the way Rafer had been acting all day, I knew that he had
something important to talk about. As soon as he got the knack of
rubbing the two sticks together, he started in.
"You know Davy, I'm getting a little worried. I don't think the
rest of the kids hold much respect for us anymore. Old Miss
Lucas has sure been spreading that story around about her cat. I
mean how were we to know that old tomcat would be snooping
around?"
I sympathized. Rafer was right of course. The two of us had
certainly fallen out of favour of late. Some of the girls out and out
smirked at us on the way to school. It was beginning to make me
uneasy. But Rafer was sure there was a solution.
"I see it this way. We've got to get going on something that
will really get their attention."
"Maybe something financial. I could use some money."
Suddenly I caught a whiff of smoke and watched a thin grey
snake curl up from the sticks. Then some small flames licked the
grass around the sticks. Then, out of nowhere there was
suddenly a stiff breeze and before we could do anything, the
sparks from Rafer's little bonfire had blown onto one of the
largest mounds of the drying hay. Then the wind picked up some
of the burning grass and two more of the mounds caught. It was
like suddenly finding yourself in the middle of a furnace.
After that, Rafer and me didn't have much time to worry about
our status in the neighbourhood. It was decided as a punishment
for destroying part of his hay crop. we boys were to clean out the
manure in Swanson's big old barn. Both sets of parents seemed
to feel it was a just dessert for our crime, so we didn't have a leg
to stand on.
I'd never seen so much manure in one place in my life. It took
us three weekends and several evenings of good hard work to dig
out that barn. Rafer said the old man must have been storing it
up for years, hoping it would turn to gold someday. For those
three weeks, every bone in my body hurt and I couldn't escape
the smell of cow dung, even when I was sleeping.
As if the hard work wasn't enough to drive us to distraction,
there was Swanson himself. He was a thin , mealy-mouthed old
man anyway. But now that we were under his thumb, he seemed
to take special delight in rubbing it in. Every hour, he'd come out
and lean against the stall for awhile and watch us shovel.
Sometimes he'd chuckle to himself and sa + something- like
"Well, I guess this will teach you boys alesson' or "Still want to
be a naturalist, Rafer?" His special favourite though was the one
"You boys should have known, whcrc there's smoke there's
fire." When Rafer was really angry, he'd count under his breath
and the day Swanson was being his worst, I heard Rafer mutter
ten thousand and then kick at the side of one of the stalls.
It was a relief that year when school was finally out. The two of
us had taken quite a ribbing for the last week of class. But Rafer
still hadn't lost faith. He said our time would come if we were
just patient and waited.
It was about the second week of vacation that we first ventured
down around Skunk's Misery again. It had started off as a
tadpole hunting expedition, but I think Rafer just needed an
excuse to scout around.
"My father says Swanson hardly put in any crops this year.
You'd a thought with that manure we dug out, he coulda
fertilized three farms."
It was about that time that we first noticed the two men
Walking across the felds. They stuck out right away because they
were dressed in ay clothes. Nuuudy around dressed like that
except on Sundays or for funerals. Every now and then one of
them would point out something and the other would nod in
agreement. We couldn't quite catch what they were saying but it
seemed the matter under discussion was serious.
"Suspicious looking" was all that Rafer said.
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VILLAGE SOL/IRE/FEBRUARY 1180 PO. 13